


The Ugliness of a Swan

by Rinoa11



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Animal Transformation, F/F, Fairy Tale Curses, M/M, Swan Lake inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:27:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22418470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinoa11/pseuds/Rinoa11
Summary: Claude seeks to fulfil his mother's dying wish in her homeland of Fodlan. He does not know that he will be made to face a mistake he made as a child and come to understand the consequences and discover his place in the world.Lorenz was bred to be a noble and cursed by his own father to become a swan. He must foil his father's growing plans before it is too late for the alliance if only he can face his fears and open his heart.A loose interpretation of Swan Lake and another few fairy tales mashed together.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> "Rinny didn't you do a Swan Princess AU already?" Yes. This one is different. I couldn't help myself with this pair. I hope you enjoy.

Claude’s mother was an elegant woman and the newest jewel to grace the Almyran crown. She was a quietly superstitious woman, practising ancient customs and magic from her homeland in Fodlan. Magic that had been passed down the generations from mother to daughter. Claude would spend much of his young childhood in her rooms, watching her hands sew stitches of protection into his clothes, pricking her finger and whispering incantations as she dripped blood onto the fabric. It mesmerised him as she sang songs in her sweet voice that her mother had taught her and now Claude learned. Songs with lessons to protect him, songs to heal the heart, songs to bring joy, songs to sing during the happy times, and the sad times. And songs to break curses. 

However, not everyone agreed with her marriage to the King. Some said that she could see spirits, some said that she had prophetic dreams but Claude didn’t care about any of that. She was his mother and he loved her dearly. Some elders thought that she was a witch and accused her of bewitching the King with her so-called evil ways. They threatened Claude’s safety as well as her own so they fled to her homeland in Fodlan for protection until his father could smooth things over with his council.

It was a horrible time. Claude remembered that he didn’t like Fodlan much. He hated it actually. It was much colder, both in climate and in people. The other children were boring and too proper. They didn’t run or play as he did. He saw how they looked afraid at his dark skin and dark hair. It was a lonely time. 

One bright afternoon, his mother had dragged him to a tea party with a noble lady. She had brought her child along with her, a taller boy. He was maybe a little bit older but Claude didn’t care. The boy sat primly, hands folded gently in his lap, delicately nibbling on cakes and daintily sipping tea. The porcelain clinked, the spoons clattered, the sips were slurped and the crumbs fell like soft raindrops onto the plates. Claude couldn’t sit still. His mother tried to hold him on her lap, stroking his hair to soothe him but the gentle quiet of the garden just made him restless. He wanted to run away from the most pristine red roses he had ever seen. Huge scarlet blooms, each petal perfectly defined. Their sweet perfume made his head hurt. 

He remembers running off and getting lost in the maze of perfectly manicured bushes and white marble statues. He remembers feeling ashamed and angry about his entire situation as he crouched in the mud in the shade of a large tree. 

He sobbed until snot trailed down his face. He remembers his anger. Why should he and his mother have to run? Why did they have to move around the courts of Fodlan playing their stupid political games? Everyone here was dishonest, hiding behind polite smiles and masks and he hated it. The boy who joined them for tea then found him, dressed in his pretty, ornate clothing. It was at that moment that his terrible feelings bubbled up in his tiny body, threatening to rot him from the inside out if he didn’t release them. He spat them out at his potential playmate. A dreadful curse. His mother told him when he was very small that he should never curse anyone but he didn’t listen to her. The words had been spoken.

In the end, Claude didn’t remember much about the boy, it was a distant memory, lost to the sands of time amongst all of his princely duties which he held now. However, he did remember the way that he paled, how his hand which had been kindly reaching out to him to lead him back to his mother retracted. He remembers the boy running to his own mother’s billowing skirts to hide his face. Claude’s mother had sternly told him off, gently demanding that he apologise to the boy as he sobbed and screamed all the stress of this terrible situation out of his body. But he didn’t apologise, he just screamed and sobbed until his tiny rage-filled body exhausted itself.

He never saw the boy from the rose garden again. His mother didn’t take him to any more tea parties after that. Judith instead taught him about archery and how to hunt, kept him as far away from the courts as she could until they needed to return home to Almyra.

After they returned, his father took him under his wing and he saw his mother less and less. Whenever he wished to see her she would be busy or he would be caught up in lessons from his tutors. He tried to sneak out but he was always caught just as he got to her rooms. Sneaking out onto the streets and into the markets was easier. He learned a lot more about people from the common folk. People thought him to be some stray urchin and paid him no mind. It was nice. It was home.

He would return late into the evening and get knocked upside the head from Judith. He would still be refused the right to see his mother. He never got to see her. He never would get to see her. The court demanded that he stay away from the Fodlan witch. His father was a coward and kept them apart no matter how much he pleaded and begged until his voice boomed like a crack of thunder that he would not budge on the subject. Claude thought about cursing him then. He did not. Claude held his tongue, biting down until he drew blood. He was too smart, too afraid. He could punish his father in other ways.

It wasn’t until a few years later when he was growing into a young man that he would see her. Sick, sad, lonely, dying. She held him to her chest, sang sweet songs to him like he was a little child again.

“Mama, why must you leave me? They would not let me see you for years and now you’re leaving me!” he asked as she combed her fingers through his hair. 

“I am sick and my time has come. I will go meet my ancestors and you will honour my memory, my love,” she said, her breath coming out in shallow gasps. She pushed a small pouch into his hand onto which she had embroidered a golden deer. “I had a final dream for you. A dream that will bring you happiness if you are brave enough to chase it.” She reached down to cup Claude’s face, her green eyes meeting his own. Her grasp was so weak. “You must go to my homeland. You must right your wrong. You must find a swan.”

“Mama, I don’t understand what you mean… Please stay with me Mama,” he begged, grasping her weak hands. She only smiled serenely at him, pulling him to her to kiss his forehead. She looked so tired but content. Her eyes closed. She exhaled.

Claude curled up on the bed beside her. He held her close and sang the song she had taught him. The song to say goodbye. 


	2. Chapter 1

Lorenz only ever wanted two things. Firstly, he wanted to be loved. It was something any young man would want really. He grew up in a cold, unloving house in the broken Gloucester dukedom. His mother was an elegant woman, a grand beauty but she was always so sad and withdrawn. His father was a greedy man. He always wanted more and did everything he could to bleed the lands dry of every bit of wealth it had from their townspeople. It was barbaric and cruel. The lands suffered, groaning and crying at the yearly pillaging and although Lorenz tried his best to argue for a better way, a kinder and fairer way, he was too young and far too inexperienced to hope to hold any clout in a Roundtable meeting.

Late at night in his rooms he often dreamed of a secure and kind love. Where he would be listened to and valued. He would fantasise about a Knight in shining armour, riding in on a grand white horse to take him to an elegant tea party and then a beautiful ball where they would dance the night away and exchange chaste favours. But Lorenz crushed down his hopes in the knowledge that one day he would probably be married off for his father’s benefit. 

Secondly, he wanted to be beautiful. An impossibility for him. His limbs and neck were too long, his body had the same curvature as a string bean but he still tried. With the use of corsetry, he would beg for the laces to be drawn tighter. He would beg to be reshaped and remoulded. Lorenz slathered on makeup to distract from his nose, highlight hie eyes and he would comb and straighten his hair until it sat perfectly. Finally he armoured himself in pretty clothes, silk shirts and velvet jackets to hide his ugly, awkward self. 

Ugliness seeped into every fibre of his being. It permeated into his life through the words of his father which he listened to at this present moment in his office. Duke Gloucester sat at his desk tapping his ringed bulbous fingers on the desk. They clinked against the wood bringing Lorenz the same discomforting feeling as the sound of clacking teeth. Lorenz’s stomach churned and twisted itself into knots. Today would probably be the day that he would be told who he was going to marry. He hoped that his intended would be kind, maybe enjoy long rides on horseback like he did. Perhaps they could take tea together and learn of each other in a gentle, tender, noble way. Maybe it would be alright in the end? But the sinking feeling didn’t let up, his father’s frown deepened and then cleared his throat, causing Lorenz to stiffen up.

“It’s become even more clear to me how useless you actually are. There is no way that you are able to be a useful heir to me with your incessant prattling about  _ nobility  _ and  _ chivalry _ and doing right by the people. I don’t know where you have got these ideas are but I have had enough! Your damned mother can’t produce any more children so your incompetence leaves me with no choice but to do this…” Lorenz watched the man raise his hand and click his fingers to summon an almost perfect replica of himself. It was horrifying to see how his father wished he would be. A colder, darker, more calculating version of himself. Something he fought against his father for so long. His mirror image smiled cruelly at him as it approached to grab him by the neck, forcing him against the office wall and squeeze.

“Father… why?!” Lorenz choked out, as tears blurred his vision.

“I must be rid of you Lorenz. I know I’m not the father you wish you had,” he started almost lamenting as his hands started to glow with dark purple magic. “But you are not the son I wanted. You are weak. Nothing more than an animal to me. To kill you would be too messy… so an animal you shall be. You are lucky I am so merciful.”

The purple magic enveloped him and with it came a pain so great that all the air was forced from his body in a silent scream as his form began to rearrange itself. The replica let go of his neck and watched him curiously as he writhed on the rugged floor. Lorenz’s neck elongated, his mouth and nose became a beak and his long arms bent to become large wings. The Duke returned to his desk to resume his paperwork. He didn’t even raise his eyes from his work as he said, “If you do not leave immediately, I cannot be held responsible if you end up on the dining table for the Roundtable’s dinner tonight, boy.”

Lorenz rose on shaky webbed feet and quickly waddled towards the window. His body was lighter but his muscles screamed in confusion at the process of trying to walk. The red rose that he always wore so proudly on his chest lay blackened and charred on the ground. A wave of indescribable sadness threatened to overtake him but he knew that the Duke was not lying in his threat. His human-shaped replica laughed at him as he awkwardly flapped his new large, unwieldy wings to reach the window, using his beak to unlatch it before flinging himself out to awkwardly and ungracefully glide down into his mother’s rose garden, hoping that no one spotted him.

For a moment Lorenz considered staying in the garden. He waddled over to the lake and looked at himself in the water to see what exactly he had become. He was a swan. A rather ugly purple-hued swan at that. He couldn’t even hope to blend in and hide amongst the other swans on the Gloucester estate and hope to live a quiet life until he figured out how to break the spell cast upon him. Lorenz let out a cry which turned out to be a honk which distressed him even more. Wonderful! 

He floated out onto the water and tried to remember how the swans would take off. It seemed to come naturally as he started to run on the water, using his feet to push off from the surface as he flapped his wings, faster and faster until he lifted into the air with a great push of his wings.

The need to escape pushed him higher and higher into the air until he reached a great height above the clouds. It was a relief to be up here, bathed in the morning light as he felt another large honk of despair leave him. He tried to cry, distraught at his situation but the tears would not come. He was a swan now. How on earth does one deal with being a swan? What do swans eat for a start? The thought of being sustained by a diet of seeds thrown by children and women by a pond didn’t wholly sound terrible, perhaps a little romantic but he was a noble gentleman! Born for noble things and noble food and noble dishes and noble beds and noble romances… Grief climbed and twisted up his long long neck. He would never be beautiful or loved now. He’s doomed to be an ugly awkward swan.

Lorenz flew for what felt like forever. The action slowly becoming more natural to him the further he went. If he wasn’t so distraught he would perhaps admire the way the clouds puffed in the sky like soft meringue peaks in an ocean of serene blue. Soon the evening came, the winds picked up and Lorenz needed to land to find somewhere to sleep. His descent was awkward and precarious. The wind caught him in its invisible snare, twisting him this way and that as he tried not to hit the trees on the way down. Unfortunately, he ended up stuck in a wild rose busy of all things. He honked pitifully as he struggled to get free but it was no use. He would only injure himself if he tried any harder and he was so tired. So done. What a terrible day. His consciousness faded. 

He woke to the light of the full moon hitting his human body. He was still trapped in the snarled thorns but he was human again! How could this be? His father wouldn't have uncursed him? So what could be the cause? 

His frantic thoughts slammed to a halt as he spied several glinting eyes in the darkness creeping towards him. A pack of wolves. He was nothing better than captive pray to them here. He tried to free himself again but his arms were held out so far apart and above his head in an awkward fashion. His legs could find no purchase on the ground and he had no knife or sword on him. They approached closer and closer, their lips smacking, their teeth gnashing. He let out a pathetic cry. 

At that moment a giant beast barreled through the wolves with a mighty roar. He watched as the wolves flew through the air to land nearby before they turned tail and ran back into the woods. The beast then turned to look at him. It was a giant, hulking wolf-like monster but it stood on its hind legs. It had massive paws with claws which looked like they would tear into him with the same ease as cutting through silk ribbons. Its fur was a blue colour and looked surprisingly soft. It tilted its head, blinking golden eyes and approached him almost cautiously.

“Please don’t eat me!” Lorenz whimpered as it sniffed at his purple hair. The beast gently extended one claw and began to cut away at the thorny tendrils that trapped him and then stepped away from him with a soft snort. 

“You’re not going to eat me?” he asked as he climbed onto shaky legs. The beast shook its head and then tilted it towards the depth of the forest, holding its large paw out for Lorenz to take. “You want me to come with you?” The beast then looked down at Lorenz’s bare feet and huffed before scooping him up into a gentle bridal hold, loose enough to escape if he chose to. “O-Okay then… I guess I will come with you. Lead the way then.”

The beast snorted and then began to run with Lorenz through the dark trees of the forest for a while, the trees seemed to shift aside for them. Lorenz watched from its arms the night animals barely take notice of them as they made their way deeper and deeper until they stopped at a small house by a large lake. The beast set him down, dusting his nude body off awkwardly before opening the door of the cabin.

It wasn’t much but it was a table and chairs. A pot of stew sat on the dying fire. It was very quaint. A handmade rug covered the wooden floor at the foot of a small double bed. The bedclothes and quilt were handmade and embroidered with wildflowers and forest plants. He turned to face the beast to find in its place a young woman with blue hair as nude as the day she was born. His hands flew to his eyes as his face heated in embarrassment at their indignant situation.

“P-please keep turned the other way! I’m not decent yet!” she squeaked.

“Neither am I!” he shot back looking in the cabin for a means to cover himself as one hand flew to his genitals to preserve her dignity although she had certainly seen everything he had to offer by now.

“There are breeches in the drawers by the closet that might fit you” came the lady’s soft voice from the bushes before she emerged dressed in a simple blue dress and a deep brown shawl, embroidered with similar flowers to the bedclothes. She braided and twisted her hair into a style which kept her hair off her neck and out of her face.

“Thank you, madam. Allow me a moment then.” He dug through the drawers and indeed were a pair of brown breeches and what looked to be a shirt which would probably fit. The cloth was much more abrasive than his usual silks and velvets but it would have to do. “I’m decent!” he called as he waited for the young woman to enter her cabin.

“Ah… yes… well… That’s good,” she said as she came inside and closed the door, inviting Lorenz to sit down at one of the wooden chairs at the table. “Umm, how to begin…” she pondered.

“Well, my name is Lorenz Helman Gloucester. I suppose I used to be the son of a noble family and my father cursed me to be a swan except I’m not a swan right now?”

“Oh don’t worry,” the woman replied. “You’ll turn back into a swan in the morning. I’ve seen a few of your kind before.”

“Really… well, then Miss…” 

“Oh, I beg your pardon sir, I’m Marianne. I don’t really get many visitors here but you’re the newest.”

“So I assume my father has done this sort of thing before? Transforming unsuspecting people into animals.”

“I don’t know for sure but possibly? It seems like a common enchantment. You’re welcome to stay here if you like, I mean if you don’t mind… well… my condition.” Marianne’s voice softened to almost a whisper near the end. Her dark eyes filled with an overwhelming sadness that Lorenz couldn’t help but empathise with. He reached his hand out to gently squeeze her shoulder.

“It would be my pleasure, Marianne. I thank you for your gracious hospitality and hope to be a good guest” he said, warmly, feeling his heart ease as she raised her eyes to him to smile weakly.

He didn’t learn too much more about Marianne as she reheated and served them both a bowl of meat and potato stew. She liked horses a lot but couldn’t keep them. She enjoyed living in the forest, for the most part, it was peaceful, if not a little lonely at times but she preferred it to the alternative. The animals didn’t always want to talk after all. It was sad to see such a lovely girl hidden away here but he supposed that not many people would take kindly to her bestial form.

He shared with her stories from his homeland deep into the night. Telling her tales of grand balls and tea parties he had been privy to. She smiled in an awkward, polite way every so often, it didn’t seem to make her happy but she humoured his attempts at conversation. 

“I’m sorry Lorenz. I’m not an elegant court lady… I’m not really a good conversation partner, in general, I’m afraid.”

“Well… eating with you is a relaxing experience!” he exclaimed, gesturing his hand towards her and the meal.

“A relaxing experience… Oh… Oh, Lorenz!” she gasped as she looked towards his fingers as they turned to feathers. “The moon must be setting. We must get you outside. I’m so sorry!”

Lorenz was gently escorted outside and stripped of his clothes just before his body painfully rearranged itself back into its swan form. He wondered as his cries turned to honks if it would one day hurt less.

Marianne watched him, tearing up, distressed at his pain, holding the garments to her chest as she knelt before him. “I’m so sorry Lorenz. I’ll do everything in my power to help you but I don’t think I can do much but I can keep you fed and safe. It’s the least I can do for you.” She opened her arms. Lorenz honked mournfully and waddled towards the young woman to be embraced, resting his head on her shoulder as he watched the very last of the moonlight disappear over the lake.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like it please feel free to leave a kudos or a comment. I'd like to hear what you think.


End file.
